


Wail Til Tomorrow

by Itch



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Crimson Flower, Implied Character Death, M/M, Sad Sylvain, hurt comfort, i promise you this, ill update tags with the next chapters, no beta we die like Glenn, please trust me, there is a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21610588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itch/pseuds/Itch
Summary: Felix goes to Arainrhod. Sylvain waits for him to return.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Wail Til Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> So this is based off this post; https://twitter.com/vwyn19/status/1194514834915655681 but only loosely, it provided the inspo for this chapter and for me to start writing but I have given it my own ending. Big thanks to Waen for allowing me to base this fic of their art!

_ Say what you want me to hear, oh say it softly so only I hear you  _

_ Act like we don’t care _

The sun was weak as she rose above the horizon, rays shining down on the courtyard. Soldiers were milling around, horses fully tacked with battle gear swinging their heads, metal tinkling together. Sylvain was stood by one of his favourite horses, one he knew was a trustworthy steed. He was fast, he was strong, and he was Gautier bred. He rubbed his palm over the horses nose, who snorted at him and swung his head in a wide arch as a man approached Sylvain from the right, his dark hair shining in the morning light. 

“What are you doing here?” Felix asked haughtily, rubbing the back of his hand under his nose to wipe away from straw and horsehair from the air that stuck to his face. His skin was glowing in a sheen of sweat, and Sylvain guessed he must have just come from some last minute training. Felix and another large group of men were set to ride for Arianhrod. There were rumours Dimitri’s army was approaching the fortress, and Felix had put his name down to ride out and see if this was true. Maybe, just maybe, he could talk some sense into him, Sylvain hoped, hand absently finding its way back to the velvety nose he’d been patting. Surely Dimitri would see that he and Edelgard wanted the same thing, and if he stopped his infernal rampage across the continent and opened his eyes, they could show him that. 

Of course,  _ they  _ couldn’t, the cursing that flew from his mouth when three of his closest friends left him for Adrestia still snuck into his dreams at times.  _ Ingrid, you really want to turn your back on us? Is this what Glenn would have wanted?  _ Felix had stepped in then, snatching the name of his deceased brother from Dimitri’s mouth with a slap.  _ And you, the Fraldarius’ family have forever been the King’s Shield, and you betray both your family and mine, for what? You claim to be better than I, but I don’t doubt that your sword hungers for blood as my lance does.  _ Sylvain put a hand on Felix’s shoulder to stop him from throwing himself into a fist fight, and pulled him away, eager to get them all out of the door.  _ I can’t say I’m surprised Sylvain,  _ was all he had had to say to him.  _ You’re not a man well known for sticking to his words.  _ He hadn’t reacted as the other two had, no, he had just walked them out with grips around their elbows, half throwing them into their bedrooms before he locked himself in his own and snapped a chair leg in half from launching it against the wall. 

Felix ran his hands through his hair, hair tie clasped in his teeth, watching the way the seasoned and exhausted men and women around him were making their final preparations to leave. Weapons were checked, sheathed, and clipped tightly to belts, backs and thighs, kept within reach of gloved hands. Horses were being led into neat lines, ready to ride out and he blew a disdainful breath out through his nose. If there something Felix was fed up with, it was the lack of time to do anything. He couldn’t even tie his own damn hair without needing to be on the move. Just as his fingers neatly wound the leather around his hair and tied it with a secure knot he had been taught by Glenn at age 4, a voice behind him distracted him. 

“Hey. Felix.”

_ But if you don’t then I won’t say I blame you _

_ Show me a sign just show me something _

“What do you want Sylvain?” He looked over his shoulder, one hand full of his horse’s reins, just about to mount on and merge into the formation. There was a dumb smile on Sylvain’s face, one that made Felix want to smack him, but also kiss him, melt into his arms and sleep for a while. Felix was tired. He wanted to have time for Sylvain. They’d been together since just after the war began, when Sylvain nearly didn’t return from a battle, and in his fury and relief Felix had dragged Sylvain down off his horse and kissed him so hard they’d both become dazed. Nearly six years they were still together, though no longer secret from people. They gave each other passing kisses in corridors, Felix leant against Sylvain during breakfast, slicing an apple with his knife and eating each piece off the blade. They even shared rooms and tents, it meant they used up less supplies. Who needs two blankets when they could cuddle under one and be warmer than under seperate? 

“Let’s get married.” Felix snorted, letting his head drop so he was staring at his boots, scuffed at the toes. With a deep breath, he forced himself to look back up at Sylvain, who was rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze was unfaltering however, and it hit Felix that Sylvain was being serious about it.

“Sylvain, we are in the middle of a war, we don’t have time for-” He was cut off however by Sylvain who moved closer, so they were only an arm’s length apart. 

“You’re right. We never have enough time.” Felix blinked, a horn blaring as the grated gate wound up behind them, a signal they would be leaving soon. A red flag waved in the air above them and Felix stared at Sylvain. His handsome face, the red locks wisping down in front of his eyes just a little, a smattering of freckles like caramel stars across his nose and cheeks. Felix hadn’t noticed the freckles before they’d come to Adrestia. It must be the warmer climate. Once the war was over, he would approach the subject of staying there somewhere. He liked the freckles. “We never have  _ any  _ damn time.” Felix tugged a little on the reins as his horse got impatient, stamping a hoof. He glanced over at the lines of people ready to leave, to walk out the gates. He knew some of them, maybe even most, weren’t going to come back. That thought made him feel slightly sick, and he turned back to look at Sylvain. 

_ Tell me I’m fine _

“Ask me again.” 

“Huh?” Felix reached out, grabbing Sylvain’s hand in his own. Sylvain’s hand was warm, it was always warm, Sylvain was like a human space heater. Felix loved to curl up against him at night when a cold wind whistled past the windows, head resting on Sylvain’s chest, hearing his heart  _ thump-thump  _ in his chest. It was an acute, wonderful reminder they were alive. “Felix?” Felix squeezed Sylvain’s hand, averting his eyes from the redhead’s face, trying to stop his own cheeks flushing a dusky pink. 

“I said, ask me again.” He repressed the urge to call Sylvain an idiot, he knew he’d heard him the first time. Sylvain had this ungodly annoying habit of pretending he hadn’t heard the sweet nothings Felix would rarely let slip, and would make him repeat them over and over until he nearly shouted them, making Sylvain laugh and draw him up for a kiss. “When I get back.”

“Okay. Yeah, I can do that Felix.” Sylvain’s face lit up in a smile so bright Felix felt it sear into his memory, and he let go of Sylvain’s hand to turn away, back to his horse. He was going to say yes of course. He had always planned on saying yes should Sylvain ask him. There was nothing more he wanted than to spend the rest of his life by Sylvain’s side, following his somewhat haphazard but always genius tactics, to brush his hair when he forgot, and to kick him for snoring in the middle of the night. “I’ll ask you again. When you get back from Arainhrod.” With that, Felix accepted a leg up from Sylvain, mounting the prize Gautier stallion, and he clicked his tongue, encouraging him into a trot to meld into the back lines of the cavalry, keen to get this over and done with. As he rode out, Sylvain noticed the way the sun framed Felix’s head, like a halo circling him.  _ When he gets back from Arainhrod.  _ God, Sylvain couldn’t wait for that day to come. He watched until Felix was out of sight before he turned on his heel, heading back into the stables to clean them out and tend to the horse’s who were left behind. Sure, he didn’t  _ have  _ to, but something was eating away at him from the inside as it always did when Felix wasn’t around. The worry that he wasn’t going to return.

_ Tell me all I have to do is wait till tomorrow _

_ And if I wait I wait for you _

It was raining when the message arrived. 

Apt. 

Edelgard read it first, Hubert looking over her shoulder. She pursed her lips at the words on the page, and a lump formed in her throat. She shoved the paper into Hubert’s chest and stormed out of the room, ripping the golden headpiece from its place in her hair as she entered her bedroom and she threw it down onto the plush blankets of the bed where it bounced and rolled to lay upside down. Hubert handed the letter to Ferdinand, their fingers lingering touching for seconds longer than need be, although no one noticed. Ferdinand in turn, passed it to Linhardt, who lazily let Dorothea snatch it from his fingers when she came to read it. She sprinted down the corridor, slamming the door to Ingrid’s room open, shocking the pegasus knight out of her reverie. She had been staring out of the window, watching the droplets race down the glass. The letter floated from her hand onto Ingrid’s desk, and the blonde choked out a quiet  _ no,  _ crumbling the parchment into a ball. 

Sylvain was outside, soaked to the bone, staring out through the gate towards the distance. They were due back. They should have been back yesterday, and yet they weren’t. Felix was meant to be back, he promised he would be back. Felix never broke his promises. 

“Sylvain.” Ingrid’s voice from behind him made him turn, finally dragging his gaze away from the gate. “Come inside.” He shook his head, raising one arm weakly to point at the entrance. 

“I can’t, Felix isn’t back yet.” His voice cracked just slightly, mostly due to the fact he bad barely used it all day. He couldn’t leave, he couldn’t just  _ go  _ and not be there for Felix when he arrived. 

“Sylvain.” Her voice quivered, and his heart dropped. He felt as if gravity just doubled around him, crushing him against the ground, forcing each breath to take a painful age to fill his lungs. He knew why people said that their blood turned to ice when they heard bad news. His blood had turned to ice, as if someone had pressed the plunger on a syringe of water straight into his veins, slowly freezing him from the fingertips and up, stopping him in his tracks. He took in a breath, and one by one his limbs broke free of their frozen casing and he reached for Ingrid’s outstretched hand. 

“No.” Words wouldn’t come to him. Everything he could think about saying was wrapping around his tongue and tightening till he couldn’t spit them out and get them away from him. He looked desperately back to the gate, the way it was solidly still, the iron bars locked down unmoving. He looked back at Ingrid, expression wild. She wasn’t being serious, she  _ couldn’t  _ be being serious. Felix wasn’t. Felix  _ didn’t _ -

Sylvain tore the letter into the shreds when Ingrid finally handed it to him in the corridor outside her bedroom. He threw a punch against the wall,breaking his knuckles, and fell onto his knees with a wounded howl that echoed around the castle. He vanished for the rest of the day, and was found at nightfall balled up on Felix’s bed with one of his cloaks wrapped around his shoulders, eyes puffy but closed in a dreamless sleep, tear tracks staining his cheeks.

**Author's Note:**

> please find me on twitter at @nothinggoeshere , waen the artist at vwyn19 - and join the sylvix server using the link here: https://discord.gg/rX8PBAz


End file.
